


All of You

by DefinitelyYou



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I do like Steve but I have a soft spot for Jonathan, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 12:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8056678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefinitelyYou/pseuds/DefinitelyYou
Summary: Nancy Wheeler wasn’t sure how she found herself in her current situation—awake before dawn, lying in the arms of a sleeping Jonathan Byers. Jonathan is her friend, not her boyfriend. That’s Steve. And Steve doesn’t know about any of this.





	1. An Even Deeper Mess

Nancy Wheeler wasn’t sure how she found herself in her current situation—awake before dawn, lying in the arms of a sleeping Jonathan Byers, their feet tangled together in the sheets of her bed.

She knows, intellectually, how she got here. Could walk you through each moment leading up to this one, starting with the disappearance of Jonathan’s brother, Will, last November and ending with the recurring nightmare of the monster with no face that woke her again last night. But she can’t recall the moment when having Jonathan in her bed changed from the simple need to feel the comfort of a friend, a fellow monster hunter, to one of desire. At some point over the last six months, she began to crave his presence as she drifted to sleep, missed him when he wasn’t by her side when she woke. 

And here she is, again, lying in her bed, awake, wondering if he felt like she did, and wondering how she got into this mess. Because it was a mess. Jonathan is her friend, not her boyfriend. That’s Steve. And Steve doesn’t know about any of this. 

Just as her guilt is about to propel her out of bed, Jonathan moves, shifts to his side and pulls her to him, cocooning her in his arms, her back to his chest, his leg draped over hers. He lets out a deep sigh that causes her heart to skip and her stomach to flip. She can’t leave now. She’d wake him up for sure, and then she’d have to make up some flimsy excuse for leaving. And she hates lying to Jonathan Byers, even if it is something as silly as saying she has to go to the bathroom when she doesn’t. Although she won’t admit it to him, he always knows—and calls her out—when she isn’t truthful with him. He can guess what she’s thinking better than anyone she’s known. Well, except for Barb. But she wasn’t going to go down that road tonight. 

Soon, the warmth of his breath on her neck and the feel of his steady heartbeat begin to lull her back into the depths of sleep, but then his left hand moves to her chest. She wakes immediately and waits. Is this really happening? He’s never done this before. He’s always waited for her to set the boundaries of their relationship, to allow him onto her bed, under her covers, close to her side. But his movements don’t stop. His right hand shifts from her side to her abdomen, his fingers tracing patterns as they work their way lower and lower. Her entire body shivers in response. It feels so good, so right. Without thought, she gently pushes herself back into him and lets out a soft sigh. He stops as suddenly as he started. Five seconds go by. Ten. Twenty. Neither of them moves. 

“Nancy?” he whispers. 

“Yeah,” she whispers back.

“Nancy,” he says, sounding guilty and embarrassed, “I’m so sor—“

“Don’t stop,” she blurts out, covering his hands with her own before he can move away.

His response is immediate, drowning out her words.

“I will. Oh god, I’m sorry, I have no idea what came over me. I . . .”

“No, don’t stop, Jonathan,” she says quieter than before, and then more firmly, “I don’t want you to stop.”

Jonathan freezes. 

“What?”

“I don’t want you to stop,” she says again. “I liked it.” 

“You did?” he asks, voice quivering.

“But I didn’t mean to,” he continues, more firmly. “I must have been dreaming, and you are so close . . . . and I didn’t know I was, you know, until I felt you move. God, this is embarrassing. I’ll go, Nancy,” he finally says, now sounding defeated.

“I’ll just go,” he repeats.

She still hasn’t let go of his hands, but he starts to pull away from her, clearly wanting to remove himself from this situation.

“Do you want to go, Jonathan?” 

He’s silent, again, the tension between them mounting. 

“Do you want to go? Do you want to stop?” she asks again. “Because I don’t want you to.”

“Nancy, that isn’t fair,” he responds. 

She doesn’t say anything in return, but she still doesn’t let go of his hands.

And then he says the words she’d been thinking until he shifted positions and got them into this mess (an even deeper one than before):

“What about Steve, Nancy?”

Hearing Steve’s name aloud brings her crashing back to reality. She finally lets go of his hands and moves herself away from him, curling into herself.

“Nancy, you know how I feel about you,” he says, softly. “But I have to know. What about Steve?”

A full minute or more passes before she can bring herself to turn to him. She looks into his eyes and is greeted with both sadness and what she thinks is desire, a look that she’s sure she returns. 

“I don’t know,” she finally whispers. 

And with that answer, he slowly untangles himself from the sheets, steps out of bed, and puts his jeans and plaid shirt back on. She sits up, too, bringing her knees to her chest and knotting the sheets in her fists by her side. He sits down again, his back to her, and begins to put on his shoes. 

“Until you know the answer, Nancy, I can’t stay,” he says. Shoulders sagging, he adds, “I’ll be your friend, I’ll always be your friend, but I can’t be more, no matter how much I want to be, until you decide what you want. I just can’t keep doing this.” 

And with that, he steps toward the window he climbed through just a few hours before at her request (always at her request).

“Jonathan, please don’t go. I need you to understand,” she pleads, pulling the sheets more tightly into her fists.

“Good night, Nancy. See you at school,” he says over his shoulder.

And then he’s gone.


	2. Choose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realize that this chapter was so much longer than the first--I guess that was really more of an intro to the story, and I expect all future chapters to be about this length. This chapter was a bit tough, moving back and forth between the present and past, and I hope I've managed to keep my tenses straight! Thanks to everyone who read and left comments on Chapter 1--I really appreciate it. I hope you enjoy this next one!

Nancy gets to school at her normal time—15 minutes before the first bell rings, allowing her plenty of time to empty her backpack, arrange her locker, and prep for the day. Plus a few minutes to talk with Steve or, sometimes, Jonathan. Today, Steve was already waiting at her locker. She wondered if she had somehow mistaken the time—he never beats her to school. She hadn’t slept after Jonathan left, replaying their conversation over again in her head. Maybe she was later than she thought. Regardless, seeing Steve first thing wasn’t how she had hoped to start the day.

“Good morning, Nancy Wheeler,” Steve says enthusiastically as she approaches.

“Good morning, Steve Harrington,” she replies, far less enthusiastically.

“Well, you don’t sound happy to see me,” he faux pouts. “When was the last time I, Steve Harrington actually beat you to school? I thought you’d be amazed by this new feat.”

He leans in to kiss her, and she turns away slightly, the kiss landing firmly on her cheek.

“Ouch, Nance, is that the way to greet your boyfriend?” he jokes after the kiss. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep too well last night. I’m just not feeling so well,” she says and leans up to kiss his cheek in return.

“Again? Why didn’t you call me? I would have come over, like before. I’m here if you need me, Nance. Don’t go all Jonathan Byers on me, huh?”

Nancy winces as the mention of Jonathan’s name, shrugging it off by pretending to struggle with the door of her locker. “What do you mean by that,” she curtly replies, slamming her books onto the top shelf.

“Oh, come on, Nancy, you know that Jonathan would rather lock himself in his room and listen to Joy Revision or whatever than talk about anything slightly resembling emotions or what happened last year. . .”

“Don’t mention that here, Steve,” Nancy scolds, slamming her locker.

“All right, all right,” he replies. “I’m sorry. But you know what I mean. You have me, you have your family. You’re not alone in this. I just want you to know that.”

Nancy sighs. She knows she’s being unfair to Steve. He’s trying to help, as he always does. And she appreciates it, but, if she’s truly honest, his isn’t the help she wants.

“Byers, hey, Byers,” Steve yells across the hall, jolting Nancy out of her thoughts. “Come here, man.”

Jonathan had been trying to sneak his way past Steve and Nancy, but Steve always has a knack for finding him when he doesn’t want to be noticed.

“Hey, Steve,” he says, crossing the hall to them.

“We were just talking about you,” Steve says smiling. “We really need to get together again soon. My parents just bought this new game, Trivial Pursuit, and I know that you and Nance would kick my ass. How about getting together this weekend?”

“Sorry, man, I’ve got to work this weekend, pulling a double shift to help out at home,” Jonathan replies. “Another time. I need to stop by the dark room before class, so I’ve got to run. See you.”

Jonathan slips away quietly. Never once having looked at Nancy.

Steve turns to Nancy, casually wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Huh, that was weird. He didn’t even say hi to you. He must have been in a real hurry. Ok, I gotta go, too. If I can’t impress you with my early arrival, perhaps newfound punctuality will capture your attention. See you at lunch,” he says and dashes to catch up with a group of classmates. 

Nancy simply stands at her locker watching him go, feeling as lost as she did when Jonathan left her room a few short hours ago.

******

“He didn’t look at me once. Not once. He didn’t even acknowledge my presence,” Nancy thinks to herself on the way to first hour study hall, growing no longer frustrated but angry at the situation. This was the first time since last fall that Jonathan had been near her and had completely ignored her. Not even his standard shy smile, something he normally gives so freely in her presence.

She can’t think straight. The situation has gotten to be too much, and she let her guard down last night. But so had he, she thinks, her anger growing. He’s the one who touched me. But I was the one who called him to come over, again. Round and round she goes in her head.

How could she let this happen?

She makes it to study hall, finds a seat in the back corner, and pulls out a copy of her AP English book, _The Scarlet Letter_ , and pretends to read. She knows she needs to figure this out. 

Looking back, it had made sense for her to go back to Steve after that fateful week last November. She cares for him, she truly does, and the fact that he came back to help her and Jonathan attack the monster when he had no idea what in the hell he was facing meant so much to her. She knew that she was more to him than a sexual conquest, which was always her greatest fear, and he completely cut himself off from Tommy and Carol, who had been so cruel to her and Jonathan. He even befriended Jonathan, something she had never expected. She wanted to make it work. 

But then there was Jonathan. No one truly understood the horror of what she went through like him. And he had saved her as much as Steve had when he pulled her from that terrible world, the Upside Down as her brother, Mike, calls it. “I’ve got you,” he said as he held her close, and he’s never let go. There’s an undeniable connection between the two of them, a friendship that she thought was forged in terror and grief. But now it’s far more, and she knows it. 

When her nightmares started, it was Steve that she called in the middle of the night to come over. Sneaking into her room through her open window, he’d hold her and whisper to her that it’d be all right, that it’s over. And if his platitudes couldn’t calm her, he’d turn to sex as a way to take her mind off of her pain. And it worked, for a while. She could lose herself in him, in the physicality of the moment. But once it was over, he slept, and she would remain wide awake.

The first time Jonathan stayed (well, since the night they faced the monster for the first time) wasn’t planned. He had come over to pick up Will after a long Saturday of gaming in the basement with Mike and noticed Nancy curled up on the couch, staring into space. She was so exhausted at that moment—she hadn’t slept in a week, and she was barely holding on to her sanity. And Jonathan knew instinctively what she needed. He came over, gently tapped her shoulder to get her attention and said, “Leave your window open. I’ll be back in 20 minutes.”

It was the most he’d said to her outside of hello since Christmas.

She roused herself off of the couch, more out of curiosity than anything else. True to his word, he showed up at her window 20 minutes later, all gangly legs and arms as he tangled himself in her curtains crawling over the threshold. When he finally got himself settled, he held out a cassette tape (and offered her that shy smile).

“What’s this,” she said grumpily. 

“A mix tape,” he replied. She raised her eyebrows in confusion

“Don’t look at me like that, Nancy.”

“Like what,” she asked.

“Like I’m that pretentious creep you once thought I was. It’ll help, I promise. I made it one night when I couldn’t sleep. And, well, it doesn’t always put me to sleep, but it does calm me down enough to take my mind off of things. It’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

“Anything is worth a try at this point.” 

“Ok. Do you have a tape deck?” he asked looking around her room.

“Yes, over on my desk. I’m going to lie down now, is that allowed?” 

She knew how rude that sounded, but she couldn’t help herself. She really did feel like shit.

“There’s no better way to listen to a good mix tape,” he said, smiling.

Before lying down, Nancy locked her door as a precaution and curled up on her side facing away from the window. And Jonathan.

After the music started, he joined her on her bed, lying on his back looking at the ceiling. “Is this OK,” he asked. 

“Of course,” she replied as the music began.

She soon lost herself in the music. She had no idea what she was listening to—Jonathan mentioned a few groups, Joy Division, Echo & The Bunnymen, and Modern English—the names meant nothing to her, but the music was soothing, low and melodic. At some point she turned over, mimicking Jonathan. Soon after, her fingers reached for his hand, seeking out the scar on his palm that matched her own, a permanent reminder of the night they nearly sacrificed themselves to kill the monster. She felt him jump and almost pull away at her touch, but he soon relaxed and then entwined his fingers firmly with hers. She had no idea when they fell asleep, all she knew is that she woke up the next morning to Mike knocking on her door and yelling “breakfast” at the top of his lungs. 

She and Jonathan were in the same position as the night before, both lying on their backs, hands entwined. It was the best night’s sleep she’d had in weeks.

“Good morning,” he said groggily.

“Good morning yourself,” she said in return. 

“Wow, I better go. My mom is probably worried,” he said.

“Yeah, of course.” But neither moved for a minute or two.

Jonathan finally got up, grabbed his coat and shoes, and turned to Nancy.

“You look much better this morning than you did last night. I guess the pretentious music did the trick,” he said, smirking. 

“Yeah, I guess it did,” she responded. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he said as he turned to the window.

“Wait, Jonathan, your tape,” Nancy said as she went over to her desk to grab it.

“It’s yours. Keep it. Think of it as a belated Christmas present. Bye, Nancy.”

“Bye, Jonathan,” she said and watched him as he made his way down her garage and back to his car. 

The tape worked for a couple of weeks, but she woke one night from a nightmare so vivid, Barb screaming her name over and over again as she searched for her helplessly in that grey, dead landscape of the Upside Down. She craved the safety and comfort of someone by her side. And instead of calling Steve, she instinctively called the Byers’ house instead.

From that point on, Jonathan was in her bed at least three times a week. Most nights they listened to the tape together, falling asleep side by side. He never touched her, just stayed close by her side. She eventually opened the door to more—holding his scarred hand or scooting closer to him. Eventually, they settled themselves into a routine: she’d lie on her back, and he’d lie on his side with his arm casually draped over her. It was close enough to make her (well, both of them, really) feel safe. 

But it wasn’t his physical presence that had helped her the most. It was him. He never spoke in platitudes, never told it would be OK. He listened, he nodded in understanding. He’d rub her back when it became too much and she sobbed into her pillow. He told her how strong she was, how it wasn’t her fault that Barb was gone, made her laugh when he’d remind her of how terrible a shot he was but that he had killer aim when it came to a Zippo lighter. He was her friend and confidant, and their relationship felt far more intimate than any she’d ever had. 

Steve noticed the change in her, but he never assumed it had anything to do with Jonathan. It just seemed like a natural progression of time healing old wounds, as he often told her. “It just takes time, Nance,” he’d say, yet another platitude. 

He knew about the mix tape, as she played it every now and then when he was over (and she missed Jonathan), but he simply thought it was a friendly gesture from Jonathan, a thank you for the camera they got him for Christmas. And the three of them slowly started to become friends. She knew both Steve and Jonathan were making an exception for her, as they would never willingly hang out on their own, even with their history of monster slaying. 

They eat lunch together a few days a week, gathering in the dark room to see the photos Jonathan’s been taking with his new camera, and sometimes hang out on the weekends. Steve really tries—and she thinks he’s grown to truly like Jonathan. But he never seems to notice the knowing glances she and Jonathan share or the way she gravitates toward Jonathan whenever he is near. She just doesn’t think it occurs to him that there is anything more than a bond formed by their shared experience. 

And then last night happened. She’d had a particularly bad dream, and she couldn’t settle herself. She called Jonathan, let it ring once, and hung up (her signal that she needed him). He was at her window in 10 minutes, looking the worse for wear, and they settled in for the night. She always suspected that Jonathan’s feelings for her extended beyond friendship, but she never let that come between them, and neither did he. He never crossed the invisible boundary they established out of respect for her and Steve. Until he did. 

She’d kept her own feelings at bay, despite the fact that a single glance—or that damn smile—from him could cause her heart to quicken and her breath to still. She had to. She made her decision, and if she didn’t stay with Steve, it would mean that Barb died for nothing. She turned her back on her best friend for Steve, to be with him for the first time, and if she didn’t try to make their relationship work, then Barb’s death made even less sense to her than it already did.

But she never knew how much she desired more with Jonathan until she felt his hands on her for the first time. Turning her thoughts back to last night, Nancy gets upset once again. Jonathan said he would be her friend, always be her friend, but then he flat out ignored her this morning. Walked away from her without a single glance. Unknowingly, she lets out an exasperated huff. 

“Nancy, are you OK?” whispers Tiffany Springer, who was sitting next to her. Tiffany was an acquaintance who happens to be in all of her classes. She has tried over the last few months to reach out to Nancy, was one of the few people who inquired about her when most everyone else simply ignored the fact that her best friend disappeared without a trace.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” she says. “Just frustrated by this reading. I really hate _The Scarlet Letter._ ”

“Me, too,” says Tiffany. “I can’t wait until we can leave Hester Pryn behind for good,” she adds with a smile. 

Nancy smiles back, trying to play along, but her agitation with Jonathan only grows. She raises her hand and asks Mr. Baumer if she can use the restroom. He nods his head in agreement, and she gathers her things and heads out the door, not paying attention to the looks from her classmates that always seem to follow her these days. 

She makes as if she’s heading to the closest restroom, but walks on past as she heads to Jonathan’s first hour class, trigonometry. She slows down as she reaches his classroom hoping to catch his eye. He’s sitting in the back corner, like always, looking out the window. But the minute she appears in the doorway, his turns his head to her. She raises her eyebrows, quickly tips her head to left, and walks on by. She knows he’ll follow.  
*******

Nancy’s in the dark room for maybe five minutes before Jonathan appears. 

She has no idea what she wants to say, so she just stares at him, holding her books close to her chest, hoping he’ll say start the conversation. He simply stares back.

It’s a good 30 seconds or more until he finally sighs, followed by “What do you want, Nancy?”

“I want to know why you ignored me this morning. You said that you’d always be my friend, and then the first time you see me you act like I’m not even there,” she blurts out, followed by a deep breath that sounds suspiciously like a sob. 

“I know what I said, and I meant it,” he starts, not even acknowledging the near sob, which hurts her even more. “But I’m serious when I say I can’t do this anymore. And I wanted to make sure you understood.”

“But I need you to understand, too,” she begins, but is quickly cut off by Jonathan.

“ _I_ need to understand, Nancy,” he asks, throwing his hands up in frustration. “What don’t you think I understand? Huh? That if you break if off with Steve that you are somehow disrespecting Barb’s memory? That you love Steve, but you need me because I get what happened better than anyone else? Is that it?”

He’s almost yelling at this point, but Nancy doesn’t react. Instead she’s staring at him, eyes wide and mouth parted. “How did you know about Barb?” she asks quietly.

“What?”

“How did you know I felt that way about Barb? I, I haven’t mentioned that to anyone, ever,” she stutters.

“Nancy, every time you talk about that night, you always mention that you abandoned her for Steve. It only makes sense that you’d feel that way,” he says softening his tone. “But it doesn’t excuse this situation. I hate to say this, but you’ve got to choose, Nancy.”

“Choose,” she asks.

“I can’t keep ignoring how I feel and watching you and Steve carry on your relationship. And if last night is any indication, my self-control is clearly taking a back seat to my feelings,” he says with a crooked smile, face blushing with embarrassment.

“I don’t want that to happen again, no matter how much I want it and you think you want it,” he starts again. “If I’m going to have you Nancy,” he says moving closer to her, “I want all of you, not just the most vulnerable part. I want the killer shot, monster hunter, straight-A student, loving sister, devoted friend, and scared teenager. Until you can share all those things with me, I’ll be your friend, but I can’t be your friend with benefits anymore.”

He moves even closer to her, leans down and gently kisses her forehead, the most intimate gesture he’s consciously ever made towards her. 

“You need to figure out how you feel about me, Nancy. And once you do, let me know, OK?”

And with that, he leaves her in the darkroom, books clutched in her arms, tears rolling down her cheeks.


	3. The Mix Tape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two quick notes:
> 
> 1) I spent a lot of time in Nancy's head this chapter, and I hope it's not too much. I promise, there's a bit more action coming soon. 
> 
> 2) The Mix tape--I spent a ton of time researching era-appropriate songs that I thought Jonathan would either listen to and like or that were part of his childhood and resonated with him. I'm sure I may not have gotten it quite right, but I also didn't want to wait too long to post the chapter. Any thoughts on or ideas about the mix tape are welcome!
> 
> Enjoy!

Nancy stays in the darkroom for who knows how long. She eventually walks to the office, tells the school secretary that she’s not feeling well, and leaves. She doesn’t go home right away, but walks aimlessly through her neighborhood instead. 

Choose, he said. She has to choose. But that’s far easier than it seems. She’s comfortable with Steve. Knows what he likes, how to have fun with him, how to please him. He makes her laugh. But does she love him? Jonathan essentially told her that he loves her and that he wants her to love him back. Is what she feels for him love? And, if it is, does she want to risk losing him all together by venturing into a new relationship? And how would Steve feel? What if she lost him, too? She didn’t think she could handle losing both of them. 

She eventually heads home. She tells her mother that she’s not feeling well and heads up to her room, locks the door, and collapses on her bed. 

She buries her head under her pillows (pillows that still smell like Jonathan and the minty shampoo he uses) and tries to fall asleep. But she only ends up more agitated as the last 24 hours replay in her head. 

She can’t have both of them, she knows this. It would be unfair and selfish. But she also can’t walk away from Steve that easily. He was her first, and he’s turned his whole life upside down to prove to her that he’s not just some dumb jock out to get laid. 

And Jonathan? Just thinking about him makes her heart hurt. Deep down she thinks what she feels for him might be love, but those feelings could simply be tied to that fateful week in November and his ongoing support. How can she be sure? However she feels, she also knows that it’s a far riskier decision to walk away from Steve and into Jonathan’s arms. 

Ever since the graffiti showed up on the movie theater marquee, she’s had to field strange looks and tolerate whispers as she walks down the hall. Even though she and Steve showed up for school together—and have been together ever since—the fact that they, well, mostly her, are seen with Jonathan most days hasn’t done anything to quell the rumors. And while Jonathan isn’t shunned in quite the same was as before—it’s amazing what a public tragedy can do for your reputation, she scoffs to herself—he’s still not fully accepted, particularly with Tommy and Carol still fueling the rumor mill. If she broke up with Steve and got together with Jonathan, well, she can only imagine what new rumors would spread. But does she care?

And let’s say she got together with him, what then? What if it didn’t work? What if it ended up ruining their friendship, breaking their bond? All she knows if that she lost him, she’d dissolve into pieces and float away, just like what Mike said happened to the monster when Eleven killed it. 

She’s already lost Barb, she can’t lose Jonathan, too. She’ll just have to figure out how to work through the nightmares and the sleepless nights without him. It’d be worth losing a few hours of sleep if she could keep his friendship.

She gets up, goes to the bathroom, and splashes water over her face. “Ok, that's it” she says, “Move on.” 

She heads back to her room, picks up the phone, and calls Steve. She ignores how empty she feels, how much he heart aches, focusing instead on the jovial voice on the other end of the line.  
*******

Later that night, she and Steve are hanging out in her room, laughing as he recounts a prank that he pulled on their clueless gym teacher that afternoon involving a bunch of volleyballs and the utility closet. Done with his story, Steve gets up to head downstairs for some food—and to take a few minutes to charm her parents. 

Lying on her bed, laughing to herself over Steve’s antics, she hears a light knock on her window. Jumping up from her bed, heart racing, she immediately grabs the baseball bat she now keeps close to her bedside and tentatively walks to the window. Pushing back the curtains, she sees Jonathan staring back at her. He raises his hands above his head, smiling slightly, and uses one hand to point to the other. Nancy, confused, looks and sees a small package in his hand.

She puts the bat down and opens the window. “Steve’s here,” are the first words out of her mouth.

“I know,” he responds. “I saw. I just wanted to give you this. I think it might help.”

“Help with what,” she asks.

“Me,” he says and hands her the tape and disappears into the shadows. She hears his car engine a minute or two later and see the lights as heads towards home. 

“What’s up,” she hears Steve say behind her, making her jump, again.

“Nothing, just thought I heard something” she sputters nervously, hiding the mix tape behind her curtain. 

“It’s probably just the wind,” he says, crossing the room to her and enveloping her in his arms. She gives into his kiss and lets him help her forget about the day, if only for a few hours.

*********

Nancy waits two whole days to listen to Jonathan’s mix tape. She wanted to be sure she had plenty of time to really listen to it, so she waited until Saturday night. While Jonathan now seems to have no problem opening up to Nancy, she knows he says far less than he actually feels. And if this tape helped to express those feelings, she wants to be sure she truly listens. 

She grabs her new Walkman, the one Mike got her for Christmas, puts on her headphones and lies down on her bed (where else would she listen to this, she thinks to herself). She drops the tape into the Walkman, hits play, and settles in for the ride.

As the music begins, she picks up the plastic tape case and pulls out the paper that forms a haphazard cover. 

“For Nancy”

That’s all that’s written on the front. She turns it over and finds the playlist scribbled in Jonathan’s slightly messy hand.

Side 1  
Tom Waits/Hope I Don’t Fall in Love with You  
The Police/Wrapped Around Your Finger  
Elvis Costello/Everyday I Write the Book  
Smiths/What Difference Does It Make  
Joy Division/Love Will Tear Us Apart  
R.E.M./So. Central Rain  
Fleetwood Mac/Never Going Back Again  
New Order/Bizarre Love Triangle  
The Clash/Should I Stay or Should I Go

The final notes from Side 1 fade away, and Nancy stops the tape. She’s not sure how he did it, but he has her laughing and crying all at once. The message is clear—I didn’t want to get here, but I did. The tape reiterates his request—“You need to choose, Nancy,”—and her heart aches even more.

She takes off the headphones and heads to the bathroom. Once there, she looks at herself in the mirror, sees her puffy eyes and red, splotchy cheeks. “Pull yourself together, Wheeler,” she says to her reflection and heads back to her room. She takes her seat on the bed again, puts her headphones back on, turns the tape over, and hits play. “Here goes,” she thinks to herself.

Side 2  
The Plimsoles/A Million Miles Away  
The Smiths/Please Please Let Me Get . . .  
The Cure/Boys Don’t Cry  
Simon & Garfunkle/America  
U2/Two Hearts Beat As One  
INXS/Don’t Change  
Neil Young/Harvest Moon  
The Mamas & The Papas/Dream a Little Dream

She’s laughing again—who knew that Jonathan has a soft spot for The Mamas & The Papas? Yet this surprise ending made it perfect. Perfectly Jonathan and perfectly clear. He leaves her dreaming of him as she finally drifts off to sleep, Cass Elliot crooning as unconsciousness envelops her.


	4. Stating the Obvious

Jonathan Byers doesn’t expect to hear from Nancy Wheeler anytime soon. He knows he’d made himself clear to her, said more about his feelings in the course of 12 hours than he had in six months. And he knows that she’ll respect his wishes, not matter what. Their entire relationship has been built on mutual trust and respect and then tested in a real life or death situation. He doesn’t see that changing now. 

What he didn’t expect was to see her with Steve so soon. The minute he climbed on the roof of her garage, he heard them, laughing together, sounding like they hadn’t a care in the world. It took all of his will to continue the short climb to her window and wait patiently for Steve to leave the room, as he knew he would at some point. 

And here he was again, observing Nancy, a pane of glass in between them as he watched and waited for her from afar. God, he really was that creepy guy, he thought to himself, no matter how hard he tried not to be. Thankfully, he only had to wait about 5 minutes before Steve left, and he tapped lightly on the window.

Nancy immediately grabbed the bat he knew she had stashed next to her bed and slowly headed to the window. 

Not wanting to surprise her any more than he already had, he raised his hands over his head and waited until she saw him. Once he caught her eye, he smiled and used one hand to point to the mix tape in the other. She let her guard down immediately, dropping her bat to the floor in relief. 

She looked in the direction of his pointing fingers and caught sight of the tape, nodding her head in understanding. 

It hadn’t taken him long to pull the tape together; most of the songs had been playing in his head for months now. He had even taken to jotting down sample playlists when he was bored. Working through the songs and lyrics in his mind was soothing to him, a kind of puzzle that helped him sort out his feelings. So on Thursday, after he left Nancy in the darkroom, he begin to form in earnest the tape in his mind. By 8:00 pm that evening, it was recorded, and he was on his way to the Wheeler’s house.

He tried his best to keep the hurt out of his voice when he gave Nancy the tape, choosing to escape as quickly as he could back down the garage roof and into his car. Seeing Steve in Nancy’s room, where he had been less than 24 hours before, felt like ripping a bandage off of an old wound. He knew that by asking Nancy to make a choice that he might not like the end result, but he didn’t expect her make that choice so quickly either. 

Jonathan doesn't want to think about that now. Instead, he wants to focus on the relief, even freedom, he found by finally admitting his feelings to her—as embarrassing as it was to have been caught essentially feeling her up last night, he was strangely relieved. At least it was all out in the open now. 

He gets back into his car, pops in the latest R.E.M. tape, opens the window, and lets the breeze wash over him, trying to keep his mind off of the girl who had somehow worked her way into his heart, a place, until recently, reserved only for his mother and brother.  
************ 

The next time he sees Nancy is on Monday morning before first hour. She catches his eye and smiles. He smiles in return before he can stop, feeling himself blush in response. She turns away quickly to shut her locker and heads to her first hour study hall. It isn’t until she’s out of site that he realizes Steve wasn’t with her.

He doesn’t seek her out as he normally would on most school days, instead leaving it to chance whether or not he catches a glimpse of her. He decides to eat outside that day, instead of in the dark room. He, Nancy, and Steve had taken to eating together in the dark room on most days. They said they wanted to learn more about his photography, see the results of Nancy’s gift to him at Christmas. He didn’t want to go back into that room, where memories of her were so fresh. 

He notices her sitting with Tiffany Springer across the courtyard. He knows that Tiffany has been one of the few classmates to reach out to Nancy since Barb’s disappearance, and it was nice to see her with a new friend. Nancy laughs at something Tiffany says, and he realizes that she looks lighter than usual, almost carefree. Nancy catches his eye and waves. Tiffany notices and follows suit. He awkwardly returns the friendly gesture, lifting his fingers momentarily before returning to the book he’s reading. 

He runs into Steve later that afternoon between classes. Jonathan notices that something is off—he can’t decide if his hair is a little flatter than normal or if he simply looks tired. Maybe both.

“Hey, Byers,” Steve says as they pass in the hall. 

“Hey,” Jonathan returns.

Looking over his shoulder to take another look at his friend, if you can call him that, Jonathan thinks that Steve looks exactly the opposite of Nancy, as if he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

He doesn’t see either one of his fellow monster hunters again that day.

************

Nearly an entire week passes. 

The days aren't too difficult—he simply doubles down on his studying and photography (he is still hoping for an art scholarship to NYU), picks up a few extra shifts at work, and ignores most of the world outside of his mom and Will. Lunches are a bit lonely without Nancy and Steve (well maybe not Steve so much), but Nance always manages to pass his way at least once, almost as if she were checking on him. He and Steve rarely see each other and simply lift their chins in acknowledgement if they do. Overall, it’s a lot like life before the Upside Down, and that’s fine. 

But the nights are torture. Even though Nancy is the one who usually called him to come over to comfort her, he’d become just as dependent on those hours in her bed as she has. Memories of the faceless monster emerging out of his living room ceiling or burning in his hallway haunt his dreams, and, most nights, he usually drank coffee and listened to records as quietly as possible, waiting for the single ring of his phone to call him to Nancy’s unlocked window. The nights the call didn't come, he usually fell asleep with the lights on, the record on the turntable spinning endlessly. Some nights he woke to Will’s tortured cough in the bathroom, waiting until his brother settled back in bed before going to his room to sleep on the floor beside him. (He still can't shake the feeling that something isn't quite right or that Will may disappear again.) Other nights, his mom quietly turned off the turntable and his light, covering him with the blanket she made him in eighth grade (nearly too short for his long legs now). 

This past week, he deliberately kept himself awake studying as much as he could. And when he couldn’t study, he’d make mix tapes, primarily for Will, who looks at them as a new adventure. “What’s your favorite song on this tape?” or “Why don’t you listen to The Clash anymore?” Will always asks. And when the tapes were done, Jonathan would put on his headphones and listen to Nancy’s mix tape (he made himself a copy, too) instead of waiting for her call.

By Friday night, the circles were so dark under his eyes that even he had to admit that he looked like shit. 

“Jonathan,” his mother calls from outside his room. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” he calls back. 

“How you doing, kiddo,” she asks as she opens the door.

“Mom, you haven’t called me kiddo since I was 12 years old.”

“I know,” she replies. “It’s just that I’m worried about you. I know, I know you can take care of yourself. But you just seem, I don't' know, off this week, and I want to make sure everything’s OK.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Johnathan replies, rolling his eyes. “Really.”

“Bullshit.”

“What?”

“Bullshit,” she repeats. Joyce Byers rarely curses in front of her boys, so she must be serious.

“Jonathan, I’m not an idiot, and I am not blind or deaf. I know that you spend most of your nights at Nancy Wheeler’s house. I know what that single ring of our phone means, and I also know that you haven’t left your room at night all week. You’re good at being invisible, Jonathan, but not to me,” she says, looking sadly at her son. 

“Mom, I . . .” he tries to respond.

“Nope, hear me out. Anyone who sees you when you’re around Nancy can see how you feel about her. I know what you two went through together last fall—she was with you when I couldn’t be. And that entire experience, well, as much as I want to put it behind me, I can’t. And Hop, well, he’s been there for me since that week, and I know that Nancy is there for you—and you for her. That’s why I don’t say anything about you sneaking out of our house and into hers. I know it’s how you survive,” Joyce gently explains. 

Jonathan can barely look her in the eyes, choosing to hang his head and hide beneath his bangs. Joyce reaches over and brushes them to the side, turning his face to look at her.

“But I also know that Nancy looks at you the same way you look at her. It’s just as obvious to everyone but her boyfriend, what’s his name, Steve?”

“I asked her to choose,” Jonathan breaks in.

“What do you mean choose?” Joyce asks.

“I can’t do it anymore, Mom,” he blurts out. “I spend most nights with her and then wake up and have to watch them together. Every day. Sure, we’ve become friends, and life’s better at school, just a bit. I’m no longer the creepy loner—don’t look like that, Mom, I don’t mind if that’s what people think of me—at least for now. But I can’t be the person she goes to for comfort every night and then become the third wheel each morning. So I asked her to choose, me or Steve,” he finishes.

“And?” Joyce asks.

“I left her crying in the dark room at school. And we’ve just circled around each other this week,” he responds. They sit silently for a few minutes.

“What do you want, Jonathan?” his mom asks, taking his hand. It’s the second time he’s been asked this question in a week.

He waits a beat or two before answering. It’s the most he’s ever spoken to him mom about girls or a relationship. Ever.

“I want, um, I want her to choose me,” he says quietly, leaning back on his bed and hiding his face under his arms.

Joyce sighs, “Oh, Jonathan. Love hurts just as much as it makes you happy. That's one thing that I'm sure about. But I see how happy she makes you. I want her to choose you, too.”

“You’re my mom, you’re supposed to say that,” he laughs in response, embarrassed. 

“Maybe,” she says, “but I do mean it.”

They return to a quiet, comfortable silence. 

“I really like this song,” she says, “What is it?”

“Oh, it’s a Tom Waits song, Hope I Don’t Fall In Love with You. I put it on a mix tape for Nancy. Pretty obvious, huh?”

“Yeah, but sometimes you need to be,” getting up to leave. “I’m here if you need me, Jonathan,” she says, squeezing his hand. 

After she leaves, Jonathan slips his headphones on and listens to his copy of Nancy’s mix tape. He finally drifts off to a restless sleep.


	5. Saturday Night Intruder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, again, to everyone who has left kudos and comments. I've greatly appreciated the feedback. I had hoped to post earlier this week, but real life got a bit nutty. 
> 
> This is a shorter chapter--I had originally combined the next two chapters, but a few comments made me rethink a few things. I'll keep working and will try to get the next few chapters up sooner rather than later. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“No fair,” exclaims Chief James Hopper as he adds the final piece to Jonathan’s Trivial Pursuit pie. “You are a walking encyclopedia when it comes to modern music. How you get a question about Elvis . . . what’s his name? . . . oh, yeah, Costello to get your last pie I’ll never know. Me? I get a question about Russian ballet.”

“Nah, I think it’s more than luck,” says Joyce, looking at Jonathan. “I’ve got some smart boys.”

“Well, whatever, he’s kicking our ass, and I’m not happy about it,” chides Hopper.

“Hop!” exclaims Joyce.

“Don’t worry, mom, it’s true. I am kicking your ass, and it feels pretty good, too,” Jonathan finally says, making them all laugh.

Saturday night game nights have become a regular thing at the Byers house, with Hopper bringing pizza and a new game with him each time. Over the last 2 months, they’ve racked up quite a collection, from Scrabble to Boggle to Risk and, now, Trivial Pursuit. With Nancy’s brother out of town with their Dad visiting an uncle, Will is with them tonight instead of at the Wheeler’s house playing D & D, and he’s watching along and helping out whomever he thinks needs it. 

It’s hard to believe that Steve invited him over to do this very thing earlier in the week. It’s amazing what a difference a few days—and a dose of honesty—can make. Jonathan smiles as he looks around the table. Everyone looks, well, happy. It’s a welcome sight after years of drama perpetuated by his father, Lonnie, as well as that week last November. He doesn’t quite know what’s going on with his mom and Hopper, but that’s OK. She finally seems at peace. And Will, well, he still worries about his little brother, knows that things aren’t quite right after his ordeal. But he doesn’t want to push him, hoping that he’ll confide in him if he needs him. 

A loud thump from the back of the house startles him out of his thoughts. His mother drops her glass, and Hop immediately jumps up and puts his hand at his waist, where his gun is always present. Will immediately moves closer to Jonathan, grabbing his arm. They wait and listen, looking down the hall. After a few seconds, they hear what sounds like a lamp being knocked over and someone cursing.

Hop moves to head down the hall, and Jonathan stops him.

“I’ve got this,” he says and turns to Will. “Don’t worry, buddy, I think it’s just a friend.”

Ignoring the questioning look on his family’s faces, he heads down the hall to his room. Jonathan slowly opens his door and turns on the light. He’s greeted by the sight of Nancy Wheeler trying to put the shade back on the lamp next to his side table, hair askew and face flushed. 

She looks at him with her large doe eyes and says, sheepishly, “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” he responds, closing the door behind him. “What’s up,” he asks, trying to sound calm.

“Well, I thought you’d were working tonight, and I wanted to let you know that I was ready to talk, um, so I wrote you this letter, and I didn’t want to leave it on your car at work, so I thought I’d leave it here, but then I saw your car at home and the Chief’s truck, and I panicked a bit,” she rambles, looking anywhere but at Jonathan. 

“Then I thought I could just leave the note on your bed, so I came to your window and hoped it was unlocked, and it was, and here I am. I know, it doesn't make any sense,” she finishes.

“And even though your window is on the first floor, it’s a lot harder to get into than I expected,” she adds blushing.

“Tell me about it,” Jonathan responds. “I tried to avoid my dad when he was visiting once, but I made so much noise getting in that the thought I was an intruder, and he came into my room with his gun.”

“I’m glad you don’t have a gun,” Nancy smirks.

“It’s a good thing I stopped Hopper from bursting in here then,” he says.

“What?” she exclaims.

Jonathan takes her in for the first time. Her hair must have gotten caught on the window, as there are stray curls pulled out of her ponytail and framing her face. He steps closer to her and reaches out to brush a curl behind her ear. It’s an intimate gesture, but he figures he’s got nothing to lose. 

“I’m sorry I scared everyone,” she says, finally looking directly at him.

“It’s OK,” he says. “So what’s in that letter?”

“Oh, nothing, really. I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight, and so I just wanted you to know I was ready to talk to you about, um, this,” she says gesturing between the two of them.

“So, you wanna talk now?”

“Yeah, sure. But not here, at least not with everyone else here. Can you leave? Or should I come back later?” she says turning back toward the window.

“No, don’t go. There’s no way anyone is going to beat me in Trivial Pursuit, so the game’s essentially over. We can grab my coat on the way out.”

“Wait, I’m not going out there. I’ll just go out the window and meet you out front,” she says.

“Nancy, they know someone was back here, and they won’t be surprised to find out it’s you. Let’s just go out together. No one will say a word.”

She chews on her thumbnail for a moment before nodding her head. 

“Good, let’s go,” he says, grabbing her hand and leading her out the door.


	6. Another Mess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And . . . we're back to Nancy! I promise that these two will make some progress soon!

Nancy shouldn’t be surprised that she wound up getting herself into yet another mess when it comes to Jonathan Byers. Unlike nearly every other part of her life, she tends to follow anything but her head when it comes to Jonathan. And this time it's lead her through his bedroom window, clumsily to boot, with the entire Byers family and Chief Hopper just down the hall. What made her think that she could crawl in and leave again without being overheard? And now, here she is, face to face with Jonathan and moments away from the talk she was hoping to put off for another day or two. 

Get it together, Wheeler, she thinks yet again as she takes Jonathan’s outstretched hand and follows him out the door. You’ve fought a monster in this house, you can handle the people down the hall.

She didn’t realize how much she had missed contact with Jonathan until his hand enclosed hers, and she immediately feels herself relaxing, even as she walks past the spot in the hallway where the monster burned. Though the carpet has been replaced and all evidence of their fight removed, she still has to fight the urge to jump over that particular spot.

As they round the corner to the dining room, Jonathan calls out, “Don’t worry—it was just Nancy." When she turns the corner, she’s sees Hopper, Joyce, and Will gathered around the table, heads grouped together over what must be Trivial Pursuit cards, based upon the debris of the ongoing game on the table. When they hear Jonathan, they all look up at him with what can only be described as guilty looks.

“I knew it,” Jonathan exclaims. “You couldn’t stand the fact that I was beating you. You’re cheating.”

“Nope, not the case,” says Hopper, raising his hands in the air. “We just gave up and decided to see what unanswerable questions lay in our future. Hey Nancy,” he says softly.

“Hi,” she responds stepping out from behind Jonathan, but not letting go of his hand. 

“You ok? You gave us quite a scare,” Hopper asks. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry I was so loud. I was trying not to disturb anyone, and, well, here I am,” she responds nervously.

“Nancy, you are always welcome here anytime, with our without Jonathan, so please feel free to come to the front door,” Joyce says with smile. 

“Thanks, and I’ll keep that in mind,” says Nancy with a smile of her own. She doesn’t know Joyce very well—her first interactions with her were last fall—but she’s always liked her.

Jonathan lets go of her hand to go grab his coat off of the rack on the wall. Without him at her side, she feels almost naked standing in front of everyone. She’s not sure how to stand or what to do. She ends of grabbing her left arm with her right one, almost giving herself a small hug, and looks anywhere but at Jonathan or his family.

“How’s your brother doing?” Hopper finally asks. 

“He’s doing OK,” she responds, turning her attention back to the table. “I think he still misses El, you know, Eleven. I find him in her basement fort sometimes, but he doesn’t look quite as sad as he used to.”

“That’s good to know,” he responds. She notices what she can only describe as a cloud pass over Hop’s eyes, but it’s gone as soon as it appeared. 

“Mom, we’re going to go for a drive. I’ll be home by midnight, OK,” says Johnathan, returning to her side with his coat.

“Sounds great. Just let me know when you get home. Good to see you Nancy,” Joyce says.

“You, too,” she replies. Jonathan grabs her hand again and leads her to the front door. They both turn and give one last wave goodbye as they leave. 

***************

“Well, that wasn’t awkward or anything,” she says as they head to the car.

“What? No, it was fine,” Jonathan says.

“Easy for you to say—you weren’t the one who was just caught sneaking in through a window,” she says. Jonathan gently bumps her shoulder with his own, trying to lighten the mood, she guesses.

As they walk to his car, she tries to thinks of where to start this conversation. She’s thought about it over and over again the past few days, but now that she’s actually going to talk to him, her mind has gone blank. 

Jonathan lets go of her hand to hurry ahead and grab the door for her, and she brushes her hand across his back as she gets into the car. She swears she feels him shiver at her touch and her stomach immediately responds by doing that flip thing that it does so frequently in his presence.

Her nerves only get worse as she watches him round the back of the car, pushing his hands through his hair the way he always does when he’s nervous. He must know what her choice will be. How can he not? Why would she go through all she did tonight to let him down if it wasn’t him? But she also knows she owes it to him to tell him unequivocally how she feels. And that’s where she gets stuck. Should she just blurt it out with no exposition? Or should she bring up Steve? Thinking back to the last morning Jonathan left her bedroom, when she couldn't even discuss her feelings for Steve, she knows she owes him more than a simple declaration. She could start by telling Jonathan that she went over to Steve’s house the morning after she listened to the mix tape. That she told him everything (at least everything except for the last night he’d slept over). That she took Steve to the side of his pool for the conversation. Her entire life had changed the night that she and Barb had sat by that pool, and it seemed fitting that she’d change the trajectory of her life once and for all in the same spot. She explained to Steve that she was never the same person after that night, and it was time for her to say goodbye to that girl. 

She doesn’t regret the last six months with Steve at all—and she told him that—but she does know that she wasn’t being honest with herself or him. Or Jonathan. And she couldn’t live with that fact anymore. 

Steve responded better than she expected, no yelling or names. He listened to her, asked a few questions, but it was clear that he’d been hurt. 

“You could have just told me, Nance,” he finally said. “I feel like I’ve been played a bit by both of you. I thought we were all friends, at least.” he ended, sadly. 

“We are,” Nancy responded. “You see, that’s it. You and I are friends. I just can’t be more than that.”

“But you can with Jonathan?” he asked. It was the first time he’d used Jonathan’s first name, ever.

“I think so,” she responded, honestly.

She had never felt more vulnerable than that moment. It was the first time she’d acknowledged her feelings for Jonathan out loud to anyone, let alone Steve. She couldn’t go back now, and she braced herself for his response.

“You know, I always knew something was up. I saw the way you’d sneak looks at him, but I thought you two were just, I don't know, bonded by that damn monster,” Steve said angrily. Softening, he continued, “I sometimes wondered if it was more, but you seemed happier the past few months, and if he helped you get to that point, I was grateful to him. At the end of the day, it only mattered that you were still with me." "Or so I thought,” he added bitterly. Her admission had finally roused some emotion in him, and she was reeling from his back and forth swing between anger and sadness. She couldn't blame him at all and simply accepted what he threw at her. 

Steve finally got up abruptly from the side of the pool. The water had soaked his jeans up to his knees, as he didn’t bother to roll them up at all when he sat down with her. 

“You need to go,” he said with finality. 

“OK,” she said standing up. “Is this it, then?” she asked, sadly.

“Can you give me some time? Before you do anything, I mean. I don’t think I can handle seeing you and Byers (back to last names again, Nancy thinks) together yet.”

“Sure,” she said and leaned up to kiss his cheek before she headed to the door in his privacy fence. He doesn’t move away from her, but he doesn’t respond either. 

“Where to,” Jonathan asks, bringing her back to the moment at hand. She hadn’t even heard him get in the car and had no idea how long she was lost in thought.

“I don’t really know,” she says quietly. “Can we just drive around for a while?”

“Sure,” he says and turns on the car radio. R.E.M. softly plays in the background as they make their way out of his driveway and onto the road into Hawkins.

Nancy takes a deep breath and tries to think of the best way to begin.


	7. Bear Traps & PDAs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost there--just one more chapter after this. I have to admit that this chapter is a bit fluffy, but I couldn't help myself--I just want Jonathan and Nancy to find a bit of happiness. Thanks to all who've left kuddos or comments--it's made this crazy journey into fiction writing a bit easier--and more fun. Enjoy!

Jonathan hums along to the music as he makes his way from his driveway to the main road, trying to hide how nervous he really is. Nancy had let him hold her hand, had touched him in return. That must be a good sign, he thinks to himself. Or maybe she’s just letting him express his feelings now, for the last time, before she cuts him off for good. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts. 

“So you didn’t really have to work tonight did you,” Nancy asks after a few minutes.

“No—I worked earlier today, but I figured it was the most believable excuse to get me out of Steve’s invite without sounding odd.”

“I probably should have guessed—it would have made my walk a lot shorter,” she says, trying to lighten the mood a bit. 

They drive on in silence a bit. 

“So, I talked to Steve,” Nancy says suddenly. 

“You, you did?” Jonathan asks, trying to sound nonchalant.

“And I, uh, told him about us,” she adds.

Jonathan closes his eyes for a second. No wonder Steve had avoided him all week. He’s actually amazed no punches were thrown between the two of them. He doesn’t know how to respond, so he waits for her to go on. 

“Well, are you going to ask me what I told him? Or how he responded?” she asks. 

“I was hoping you’d just tell me,” he says.

“You aren’t going to make this easy, huh,” she sighs. “I just told him about us, about you sleeping over sometimes. I didn’t give him too many details—I didn’t tell him about last week,” she adds quickly, “but I did tell him that you helped me. Made me feel safe.”

“Was he upset,” Jonathan asks. He comes to a 4-way stop, and decides to turn right, trying to keep his eyes on the road and not on her.

“Yes and no,” she responds. “He noticed the way we were with each other. I didn’t think he did. He always manages to surprise me that way,” she says with a small smile. “He just thought that if you helped me, made me happier, what harm would it do? I was still with him. And that’s what I thought for the longest time, too. But . . .”

“But what,” Jonathan interrupts a little too quickly.

“But it, our relationship, changed. Or I changed. Both, I guess,” she trials off. Jonathan remains silent, waiting for her to tell him more. He makes one final left turn and slows the car down as he approaches Hawkins’ one and only family park, complete with pavilions and a lake. 

“Is this ok?” he asks. Nancy looks at him confused. “Going to the park, I mean.”

“Oh, sure. This is fine.” Nancy shakes her head in that way she does when she’s trying to clear it and then she continues.

“So you said yes and no. What did you mean?”

“I was expecting the Steve of last November to come out—lots of yelling, cruel words to be thrown around. But it didn’t happen. He listened to me, talked a bit. And then he asked me to leave. And I did.”

“When did you talk to him?”

“On Sunday.”

“So you’ve both known this whole week,” he says, annoyed.

“Jonathan, it’s not like that. I talked to him on Sunday, but he asked me to give him time” she says. “I still care for Steve, and I wanted to respect him as much as I could. Please understand.”

“I do understand. God, Nancy, I understand. I just always feel two steps behind everyone else, and it’s frustrating.”

“But you’re not. Behind I mean. I think you’ve been the only one of us who saw the writing on the wall long ago. It just took Steve and me a while to catch up.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Jonathan turns off the park’s main road, pulling into the small lot next to the lake. It’s one of his favorite spots. The surrounding trees cast perfect shadows at sunset, and he often comes here to take photos or simply to sit and think. He’s not surprised he ended up here now.

“So now that you’ve caught up . . .” Jonathan says, hoping Nancy will pick up where she left off.

“Now that we caught up, um, Steve and I officially broke up on Thursday,” she stops and pauses for a second. “It took him a few days to be willing to talk again, and we agreed it was best to end it. And it was ok. He’s hurt, and I’m hurting a bit, too. He’s a good guy, and he’s been good to me. But that’s not enough. Not now.”

“Why not now?” Jonathan asks quietly.

“Really? I need to say it?”

“It’d be nice to hear,” Jonathan says with a smirk. 

“Fine,” Nancy huffs. “Because of you,” she says turning her body toward him. Jonathan remains silent. 

“I always felt a connection to you. I thought it was because of what we went through, that you believed me when I came to you about Barb, found me when I was lost in that horrible world. But it’s more. You make me feel, I don’t know, nervous and safe and excited all at the same time. It was never like that with Steve. It was fun, comfortable, but never more. I want more, Jonathan, with you,” she ends with a whisper. 

Jonathan closes his eyes for a second. He heard Nancy loud and clear, but he can’t wrap his mind around what she said. As much as he hoped he would hear those words from her, he doesn’t quite believe she still said them. 

Needing to clear his head a bit, he gets out of the car and sits on the hood. He’s not sure how long it is before Nancy joins him. She pulls herself onto the hood, sitting close enough for Jonathan to smell her shampoo (vanilla and peach), but not close enough to touch. 

“When did you change your mind?” he finally asks her.

“After the mix tape.”

“I saw you with him on Thursday night, and I thought . . .”

“I did too,” she says reaching out to take his hand.

“When you first told me that I had to choose, I didn’t think I could. And then I thought about Steve. He, um, he was my first. And he had turned his whole life upside down (sorry) to make it work after everything. And I was afraid of my feelings for you,” she says, slowly rubbing the scar on his left palm. She takes a breath and continues.

“Barb was my closest friend, and she’s gone. I’m closer to you now than anyone, and what if I lost you, too? I didn’t think I could survive that, Jonathan.”

He finally looks at her, sees the tears on her cheek and wipes one away with his free hand.

“It was that damn mix tape,” she laughs. “How do you do that? Find these perfect songs and then tell a story?”

“Years of practice,” he says with a laugh. “I don’t have many friends, Nancy, so I have lots of time to think up playlists.”

“Shut up,” she says, bumping him with her shoulder. “Anyway, I listened to it on Saturday and by Sunday morning I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That if I stayed with Steve, I’d lose you anyway. I figured if I took a chance and it didn’t work out between us, well at least I got a chance to love you.”

Jonathan stops. Stops breathing, stops thinking. 

“Love me?” he finally says. 

“Yes,” she whispers.

Jonathan slowly gets up and turns to Nancy, moving to stand between her legs. She is so beautiful, looking up at him with those wide blue eyes. He reaches up and removes the elastic band holding her hair up, letting the waves fall down around her shoulders. God, he’s wanted to do that forever. He takes her face in his hands and leans in to kiss her, gently at first and then more insistent. She responds immediately, wraps her arms and, eventually, her legs around him, pulling him into her. They move from chaste to heated in a matter of moments, sighing together as they both finally give into their feelings. 

His hands find her hair and then her neck and then her back, running down her spine to her hips and back up again. She whispers his name and pulls him even closer, wrapping her hands around his neck and lifting herself up, as if she can’t get close enough to him. She kisses his lips, his cheeks, his neck, stopping to worry at the soft spot right above his collar bone. He feels as if she’s devouring him, but he doesn’t care. He wants more. He turns her face back to his and continues his exploration of her lips and mouth.

When the need to breathe freely becomes too much, they part, but keep their foreheads touching and arms wrapped around the other.

“You love me, Nancy Wheeler,” he finally says. 

“And you love me, Jonathan Byers,” she responds.

“So, you’ve gone from buying bear traps with me to making out on the hood of my car in public. I’ve got to ask again. What’s weirder? The bear traps? The PDA? Or me?” Jonathan asks.

“You, Jonathan Byers, it’s still definitely you,” she says, pulling him in for another kiss.


	8. The Front Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we've reached the end! Big thanks, again, to everyone who posted kudos and comments. Your support has been tremendous. I imagine this won't be my last venture into fan fiction--I'm still quite taken with Stranger Things, Jonathan and Nancy, and this new community. I love reading our different journeys into this world, and I hope I can keep contributing to it as well!
> 
> And, one last time, enjoy!

Jonathan finally drops Nancy back off at her place a little before midnight, having spent the rest of the evening wrapped in each other’s arms on the hood of his car. They didn’t talk much—he thinks they had both said enough for one night. 

He walks her to her door, giving her one last kiss goodnight. They promise to talk to each other tomorrow.

As he’s walking back to his car, Nancy calls out to him.

“Hey, I meant to ask you about the Mamas and the Papas. I never expected to hear that song on a tape from you.”

“Did you not like it?”

“No, it was just . . .unexpected.”

“My mom. She played it all the time when I was little and would even sing it to me when I couldn’t sleep. It just stuck, I guess. And I thought that even if we didn’t end up, you know, together, I could still share that with you.”

“I loved it, Jonathan,” she says, drawing that shy smile out of him once again. “Good night,” she calls as she opens her front door. 

Jonathan doesn’t remember being this happy for a long while. He’s not supposed to get the girl, but he somehow did. And he’s not going to spend too much time thinking about how it happened. Instead, he turns up his radio, singing along as he makes his way home. 

When he pulls in his driveway, he notices that Hopper’s car is still parked out front. Hop has never spent the night before, but Jonathan doesn’t mind, really. Hell, he’s too happy to mind much of anything. He opens his front door and finds his mom and Hop on the couch, his mom asleep with her head resting on Hop’s lap, his feet up on the coffee table. Hop is gently running his hands through Joyce’s hair, watching an old black and white movie on TV. He turns to Jonathan and raises his eyebrows?

Shit, Jonathan thinks, mom told him. Wanting to avoid any conversation, he simply smiles at Hop, nodding his head, and turns to take his coat off and hang it on the rack. When he turns back to the couch, Hop has turned away, eyes closed with his head on the back of the couch, wearing a smile of his own. 

Jonathan heads back to his room, stopping to look in on Will, who is sleeping soundly for the moment. Satisfied, he goes to his room, shutting the door behind him. He lies down on his bed, replaying the evening in his mind, and falls into a sound sleep for the first time in a week. 

*****

Nancy Wheeler can’t believe she just spent the night making out with Jonathan Byers on the hood of his car. But she shouldn’t be surprised, really. They’d been heading down this road since he first spent the night in her room six months ago. 

They didn’t do anything but kiss, but the passion she felt when he let down her pony tail and touched her lips for the first time with his was overwhelming. She thinks she actually tried to climb him at one point, desperate to get as close as possible. She can’t bring herself to move for a minute, trying to hang on to the lingering feeling of desire that she felt in his presence. 

“Nancy, is that you?” her mom calls out from the family room, bringing Nancy out of her revelry. 

“Yeah, mom, it’s me.”

“Did you find Jonathan,” her mom asks as she walks into the foyer. Nancy had told her mother that she was going to try and catch up with him after work. 

“I did,” she says. 

“And?”

“And, um, it was good, he was good,” Nancy responds, smiling to herself. She can’t believe she’s talking with her mom so freely, but it feels right. Everything about this feels right.

“You look happy,” her mom says warmly. Nancy looks up to her with a huge smile, and it’s all the response her mom needs before continuing. 

“I know you don’t share much with me, Nancy, but I’ve always liked Jonathan, and I think he'll make you happy,” her mom says, squeezing Nancy’s arm before heading back to the family room. 

How did her mom know? Once again, she underestimates those around her . . . and how oblivious she’s been to her own feelings. Nancy shakes her head in disbelief and quickly climbs the stairs to her room. After taking off her coat and shoes, she grabs her Walkman, lies down on her bed, and presses play. She falls asleep to Jonathan’s mix tape, Mama Cass lulling her to sleep once again. 

When she wakes the next morning, she's amazed that she made it through the night without a single nightmare. She immediately picks up the phone to call Jonathan, wanting to feel his presence, even if it's only through a phone line. She knows last night happened, but it doesn’t feel real. A groggy “hello” greets her on the other end of the line. 

“Good morning,” she says.

“Oh hey, good morning,” Jonathan replies. “How’d you sleep?”

“Great,” she says. “You?”

“Yeah, me, too, but—“

“But what,” Nancy interjects, worriedly.

“I missed you,” he replies, softly. 

“Me, too,” she says rolling over onto her back and twirling the line around her finger. (God, when was the last time she sat on her bed like this?)

“So can you come over today? Maybe we can study together?” she asks him.

“Sure. I’ve got to work the early shift at the movie theater, but I can be there by 5. Is that OK?

“Yeah, that’s perfect. So, I’ll see you around 5?” she says.

“Around 5, yeah. I, oh shit, I gotta get ready, I’m nearly late,” he says over sounds of him scrambling over the debris on his floor. 

“Hey, Jonathan,” Nancy says loudly trying to be heard over the ruckus.

“Yeah?”

“Tonight, use the front door.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been a long-time reader on AO3, but this is my first attempt at writing a fic. It's a bit nerve-wracking to say the least, but I just can't shake Jonathan and Nancy from Stranger Things. I'm eager to hear from others, so please share your thoughts.


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